When rock makes its next move and edges out of its current general state of
confusion, the impetus which charges that move is unlikely to derive from a
single source of energy. What is becoming evident, however, is a sense of shared
responsibility, and the emergence of a group of individuals whose intelligence
and background separates them from the main body of rock. One hesitates to
impose upon them a collective identity, but check out the credits on your copy
of June 1st for further details. there's already some evidence in two
of this year's most rewarding albums - Fear and Rock Bottom - to
suggest that the new direction, as yet undefined, will come from this direction.
And if initial impressions are enough on which to build an opinion, those two
albums are about to be joined by a third, Taking Tiger Mountain (by
strategy). Which brings us, by a rather long route, to Brian Eno.

Tiger Mountain is Eno's third album since the
celebrated split from Roxy, and in the context of this argument it might well
prove as important a contribution as either John Cale's or Robert Wyatt's. The
hesitancy of Warm Jets has been replaced by confidence found in working
with people like Wyatt, Cale & Nico, who have been more than sympathetic to
Eno's concepts and ideas. The influence of Cale especially pervades the album.
Tracks like "China my China" and "Back in Judy's Jungle"
reveal the extent to which Eno's talents have developed. "China",
specifically is an outstanding example of Eno's ability to fuse the most
separate influences into a coherent whole (it's like Syd Barrett sings John
Cale). To define its relationship with Warm Jets one could point to
development contained within three three songs on that album: "Baby's on
Fire","Driving me Backwards" and "Dead Finks".

As Eno explains: "Of the ideas on that album, one can say that those
were new ideas. They are if you like unique to me - or if not unique, then
special to me.

"Like 'Baby's on Fire' was written around two notes
and that's interesting to me. It's very economical and that interests me at the
moment when song structures are so complex in general, that one can write what I
think are interesting songs without that kind of complexity. I mean I don't
have to rely on the complexity of the structure for the interest of the songs.
I can listen to those three songs because there is still a mystery about them
for me. Whereas other things on that album, I like but they are completely
obvious to me, and it doesn't seem to matter that I did them, they could have
been done by somebody else, and that's not such a good feeling actually. I mean
one likes to think that you do what you are best at and that there's a certain
area that I can do possibly better than anyone else."

The very construction of the album, at least in terms of production and
integration of ideas, reveals Eno's increasingly uncompromising, if not
eccentric attitude to the standard procedure of recording. To use a
specific example of the way in which he was able to
transcend and manipulate those basic traditions, there was a strategy he used
which involved a set of cards upon which he had written messages to himself,
some technical details, others purely conceptual, and others just cryptic notes.
"There are maybe 64 cards, whenever I was stuck for a decision in the
studios I'd simply refer to these cards whatever card I picked up I would act
on. I wouldn't choose one lightly, because the point was I had
to observe it, and what it did was to force me to try something out even if it
had no chance of working. I'd found that working in studios before you can
become so insular and narrow in your focus that you can forget all the great
ideas you have outside the studio situation. Often I'd find that I'd get into
the studios and it was as if I'd forgotten all the things I wanted to do and
just carry on working because the equipment was already set up in a certain way.
Studios are usually set up as a means of reproducing an idea which is already
set. Now I'm interested in the studio as a way of creating something new, and
not at all interested in the distinctions between live and studio because as far
as I'm concerned there is just no comparison, they're two entirely different
activities. So I used the cards as a way of jolting myself back into thinking
about what I was doing".

The unexpected is a quality that runs through the album, from the sleeve by
Peter Schmidt to the surprising force of Eno's performance. Again it's the a
matter of confidence and the sympathetic co-operation of the musicians, from
Robert Wyatt, Phil Manzanera (who these days seems to reserve his most crucial
contributions and ideas for his work with people like Eno & Cale) through to
Brian Turrington of the Winkies who supplies bass and some beautiful piano on
the title track and Fred Smith on drums.

Lyrically, the album derives its strength from Cale's (and again maybe
Barrett's) mysterious ambiguity. "I've developed new systems of writing
lyrics. One of which is panic. I'd just
start writing ideas, just from phonetics and then in the studio I'd have to
finalise them. Practically all the lyrics were written in about 15 minutes but
they are based on suspicions which existed for some time. But the thing about
writing fast is that you don't guard yourself. Because the problem with writing
lyrics is that one can become very self-conscious, and when one sees something
written down it can look very fixed and over-specific. And this is why I don't
have the lyrics printed on the sleeve. As far as I'm concerned my lyrics don't
exist as some kind of poetry in their own right, but as part of the music. So
it's no more relevant to print the lyrics than it is to score the top line that
the guitar is playing."

With this album Eno has reached the same stage as Roxy, and he's still
pretty synonymous with that band since his music reflects many of their initial
ideas which have since been overlooked. But there's still a feeling of
suspicion, almost, toward his actual standing as a musician.

"That's true and if I'd have thought of the critics when I was doing
this album I would probably have thrown it out completely. But I know it's
good. I have no doubt it's a much better album, because I was able to use far
more of the ideas that are important to me. Obviously my role
in rock music is not to come up with new musical ideas in any strict sense.
It's to come on with new concepts about how you might generate music. It's
always time to question what has become standard and established. I figure that
in a way, my contribution, if it's received, it will be on a more on a
theoretical basis, about suggesting greater freedom in the way people approach
music. I'll be very interested in that context to see how this album is
received. It's impossible to predict, but it will be interesting."